a frozen sunrise
leaps between trees shocked
by the cold of reality
on a morning left behind
by a year
marked with double-time
mis-step
black heels pounding
history’s false rhythm
good evil
light dark
black white
grey pavement winding
forward
the only
right
direction
.
.
.
people say you’ve changed
and i say
hallelujah!
about time!
how high?
my feet got bigger
and my hips got wider
and crone was painted every
where i looked in
big red scary letters
or long retracted grey whispers
(and both sound exactly just the same)
i inherited all this anger
from the girl that came before
this rage
raging all around
i’ve been breathing rage
for a year now
a year that broke my heart
in every sideway possible
and screwed it back together
with those cheap screws
that break
when you crank too hard
that makes it sound worse than it was
that makes it sound easier than screaming
that makes it sound so grandiose
when really it was just hours
and minutes and tears and breathing
sweat equity pouring down my back
as i walked for miles and miles and miles
and never did get far enough away
i have calluses stronger than my silence
i have plastic words and a purple parachute
i have this empty body standing tall
and we all sag under the weight
of whittled-down survival
…..
this afternoon
the sky
was filled with geese
winter is coming
winter is coming
at night i hear these words
in the darkness
outside my window
inside my head
your voice
my voice
whisper scream
the possibility
of resurrection
.
.
.
and all these temporary moments
but we crave permanence, don’t we?
i think that may be what makes us human
all these losses
broken promises
little hurts
deep wounds
stem from that desire
and the reality of truth
is always winning
say hello
wave goodbye
each night
each hour
each minute
say hello
wave goodbye
the morning glory
has just one day
to bloom
say hello
wave goodbye
but look
how she loves
the sky
.
.
.
sixteen years later
that’s what we call it
not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven
two words
three digits
two towers
four planes
thousands
of
mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends
not statistics
falling
from
the
sky
not dates
or where were you’s
just whole hearts
in odd numbers
each one
the only necessary
evidence
of love
::
.
.
today
i walked
in the rain
thunder
hounding
feet
pounding
head held
high
going
nowhere
sorta
fast
.
.
.
i once
built a moon
on a red wall of chapter
singing verse and pressing mortar
into cracks and desperation
all scrabble fingered
and blister burned
pasting love and scraps of
survival
over lies and offered
fiction
all the while pretty singing
this is the light
we eat by
this is the light
i worship at night
this is the light
i fly to
burning wing and hemmed
betrayals
my own false idol
swinging from a string
in the blackest corner
of orion’s night
.
.
.
there will always be days
stretched tight
by the too dry skin
of living
there will always
be evil
rubbing shoulders
with light
always be witches
dancing circles
at night
always a cloud
blotting out
the gold sun
always loss and possibility
mixing chance
in roiling ocean
it doesn’t have
to be enough
or even
filling
warmth is the illusion
of life
parody is pure
in the blossom of sight
and green things grow
from the cracks
in black ice
.
.
.
like the bird
bouncing off
the top studio window
or the tree
bent broken fallen
from harsh storm
and
the grandmother
hearing news
of World War III
or the 12-year-old girl
standing cold
in a dress
called provocative
in a country
still reeling
from impossible
truths
100 days
is a phrase
with no rhyme
or right
reason
.
.
.
as if the sun carried stars
and the moon
danced with shadow
or your smile
meant the joke
it once
implied
the way we wandered
through the streets
of a city left by
rome
holding flowers
in damp palms
limp with longing
.
.
.
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